


For You, Sammy

by lotrspnfangirl



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hunter Dean, Hurt Dean Winchester, Lawyer Sam, Self-Sacrifice, sacrificing happiness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-05
Updated: 2015-10-05
Packaged: 2018-04-24 20:59:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4935193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lotrspnfangirl/pseuds/lotrspnfangirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean hasn’t seen Sam in at least fifteen years. Sam accomplished everything he dreamed of and there’s nothing in this world Dean wouldn’t give to make sure nothing jeopardizes that, even his own happiness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	For You, Sammy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SunriseRose1023](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunriseRose1023/gifts).



> Author's Notes: These prompts were so hard to choose from! My beta, oldbatj is awesome, so any remaining mistakes are due to my own fiddling.  
> Disclaimer: Pure fiction! I do not own any rights to Supernatural or the characters. I’m borrowing, and playing.  
> Written for spn_summergen 2015 for SunriseRose1023

“Dean?”   
  
Dean Winchester looked up, blinking the sleep from his eyes and froze as he recognized the face the voice belonged to.   
  
Of all the freaking hospitals in the whole entire country…   
  
“Hey, Sammy,” Dean flashed his younger brother a smile, wincing as it pulled at the butterfly sutures on his left cheek. Sam’s eyes widened and he stood, frozen in the doorway. Dean swallowed hard and let himself get a good look at his brother. He’d filled out some more, the suit he wore was stretched, albeit nicely, across his even broader shoulders and with a pang Dean realized that Sammy wasn’t his little, snot-nosed brother anymore.   
  
His hair was longer, he’d lost the bangs along with the youthful chubbiness of his cheeks. His hands were clenching the handle of a briefcase and Dean’s own eyes widened when he saw the flash of a gold band on Sam’s left ring finger.  _When the hell had Sam gotten married?_  
  
“What the hell happened, Dean?” Sam’s voice was a whisper and he quickly shut the door behind him before moving and dropping the briefcase onto the bedside table. He hovered close to Dean’s bed – close enough to see Dean, but not close enough to touch. “You… you look like shit.”  
  
“I’ve had worse,” Dean shrugged and found himself still staring at the ring. If Sammy was married… did he have kids? Was Dean an ‘Uncle’ without even knowing it? Dean let his eyes fall closed; keeping them open was suddenly just too painful.   
  
When Dean felt the trace of fingertips across his scarred cheek he jumped, eyes flying open again to see Sam jerking his hand back as if it was on fire. Large hazel eyes were still pinned to Dean’s face, however, and Dean knew that Sam wasn’t the only one that had changed…  
  
“Yeah… I… uh… pissed off a demon a few years back. He figured if I could burn him with holy water… he could burn me with acid.” A pained expression flitted across Sam’s face and the need to comfort his brother was suddenly back full force as if it hadn’t been fifteen years since they’d last laid eyes on one another. “It’s fine, really… I mean, at least he didn’t get my good side, right?”  
  
Sam shook his head, not amused in the slightest and Dean sighed. If Sam was this upset about his face… it was a good thing his legs and stomach were covered by the hospital gown and blanket.   
  
“Where…?” Sam cleared his throat, licking his lower lip before continuing. “Where’s Dad?”  
  
Dean blinked up at Sam, his stomach clenching. “Dad… um…Dad died, Sammy. Five years ago.” He watched the emotions play out across Sam’s face and briefly wondered how Sam did as a lawyer when he was so easily read. Then again, maybe it was only Dean that could read him. “I tried to find you but…”  
  
Sam nodded once and then shook his head quickly, clearing his throat for the second time before he turned around reaching for the visitor’s chair. Dean knew he was just doing something to keep his hands busy, but he stayed silent until Sam was seated again at his bedside.   
  
“No… I… After Dad and I had that huge fight at Stanford I… I guess …I didn’t want to be found,” he admitted looking down at the floor.   
  
Dean nodded, remembering that night long ago when Dad had come home, reeking of alcohol and cigarette smoke. The only thing he’d managed to get out of John was  _”I’ve lost him. He’s really gone, Dean.”_  Dean couldn’t remember ever talking with their father about Sammy again after that night…   
  
Not that Dean hadn’t thought about him. He glanced over again to see tears swimming in Sam’s eyes as he processed the new information. Dean should’ve looked harder to keep tabs on his little brother after he’d graduated from… He knew he had moved with his girlfriend to New York, and then down to Texas, and then… then Dean had just… stopped looking…given up.   
  
Dean had stood by patiently, silently providing backup as John had thrown himself into countless, reckless hunts, determined more than ever to rid the areas wherever Sam was living of any evil sons-of-bitches he could find.   
  
In all honesty, Sam had probably known that his family was somewhere nearby during those times. Once you were a hunter, it was in your blood no matter how fancy your suits were or what kind of car you drove.   
  
But then eventually Sam had pulled back, had become much harder to track, and John had simply spiraled downward. He fell so far he had made a deal that finally cost him his life, so desperate he had been to make sure his youngest son was safe, that someone would be watching his back when Dean or John weren’t around or even welcome.  
  
“How…?” Sam whispered unable to finish and Dean froze again.   
  
“Just… a demon…” Sam didn’t need to know. There was no way Dean was going to tell him the truth… Sam nodded his head, accepting the simple response and Dean felt the guilt churning in his stomach. “S’Why… I didn’t expect to see you… especially around here...of all places.”  
  
“I… I figured that maybe, some day you would come back here, too.” Sam whispered, eyes darting up to meet Dean’s and Dean immediately closed his.  _Goddamnit, Sammy…_ Sam continued, “It’s where it all started, I just figured it would be where it all ended too.”  
  
“Yeah, so…” Dean sighed, forcing himself not to think of what Sam meant, not wanting to believe that Sam had actually missed them, could possibly want to fix this twisted, dysfunctional family. “Umm… Married?”  
  
“Yeah… I married Jess actually, met her at Stanford and we reconnected after grad school.”  
  
“Kids?”  
  
Sam was silent for a moment and Dean opened his eyes again. Sam had his bottom lip between his teeth and was nodding slowly. “Yeah… I, uh…I have three.” Dean’s eyes widened. So he  _was_  an uncle. They fell silent again, both of them lost in their own thoughts. Finally, Sam broke it.   
  
“I’m… here for a reason,” he gestured towards the leather briefcase and Dean nodded, watching as Sam opened it and pulled out a stack of papers and a yellow legal pad. After he added a pen to the top of the stack he set the briefcase down on the floor and stared at Dean. “I’m supposed to be your legally appointed attorney. As your brother I can’t really—”  
  
“You and I both know I’m not sticking around for a trial, Sammy. It was a shifter, not a human.”   
  
“I know,” Sam whispered, looking down at the pad and Dean sat up straighter.   
  
“What do you mean?”   
  
“I… I knew there was one around here. I… I have kids Dean, and I don’t want that shit around them or my wife. I may not have been actively seeking it out and trying to destroy it, but I was aware of it. I’m so fucking aware of everything that I drive myself crazy sometimes… I just… I tried once… you know… hunt and Jess had so many questions… about where I’d been so late, why my clothes smelled like a different detergent… She thought I was stepping out on her and… well, shit, how could I tell her I took out a nest of vampires that were in the neighborhood and then washed my clothes at the laundromat so she wouldn’t have to deal with the blood stains?”  
  
“Sammy—”  
  
“She was already considering counseling, she was pregnant with Maddie and thank God she didn’t leave me for cheating on her. Like I could ever tell her the truth… She would think I was insane! But I still have to keep them safe, Dean. They’re my family, they’re everything I have, and I have to know. I keep my eyes peeled for hunters, keep my ear to the ground and—”  
  
“Sam! Stop! I get it, okay?” Dean reached over and grabbed Sam’s forearm, making him stop midsentence. “You don’t have to explain… family... family is  _everything_.”  
  
Sam closed his eyes and lifted his free hand to cover Dean’s squeezing it gently before leaning back into the cheap plastic chair.   
  
“Have you… um…” Sam paused and exhaled, and Dean already knew what he was going to say. “Are you going to stay for a while?”  
  
“Sam…” Dean shut his eyes, shook his head, and sighed.   
  
“You look like shit, Dean. You’re in a hospital… And Dad’s not out there to…to…” Sam cut off and swallowed hard, eyes never leaving Dean’s face.   
  
“Sammy, I’ll be fine. I’ve got the Impala and… fifty bucks to my name. I’m golden.”  
  
“Jess wouldn’t mind…” Sam whispered, his eyes filled with so much hope and concern that it made Dean’s heart ache. “I… I mean, it would be nice, you know? To catch up. To show you around, have you meet my kids. It’s been way too long, Dean.”  
  
Dean nodded because there was nothing else to say. It would be nice, it would be more than nice. Dean could almost picture accepting Sam’s offer. He knew his brother would help him sneak out of the hospital, would probably pick his sore ass up at the corner, and for the first time in months, Dean would probably have a warm bed to sleep in or, at the very least, a warm blanket on a comfy couch. If he tried, he could almost picture Sam’s kids… big ears, bigger dimples, and smiles for miles just like Sam had when they’d been kids.   
  
Sam would ask questions about Dad and Dean would answer what he could. It would feel so nice to be able to talk to  _someone_  again, especially if it was Sam. He licked his lower lip and met Sam’s hopeful eyes, still searching Dean’s face for an answer and Dean knew in his heart what that answer had to be.  
  
Sam had the life he’d always wanted… the wife and kids…hell, there was probably even a picket fence and a big, floppy dog. He looked happy and healthy and most importantly, safe. It had broken Dean’s heart –and John’s—when Sam had decided to walk away from them and catch a bus to California to enroll at Stanford. Dean had spent countless nights worrying about a million different horrible, awful things that could happen to his little brother while he and Dad were busy hunting across the country.   
  
But none of them had ever happened. Sam was here and grown up and still…  _perfect_. His skin unblemished, save for childhood scars and age, and even though seeing his older brother was probably stirring up one hell of a lot of turmoil inside of Sam’s head? He was happy.   
  
Dean felt the hot tears welling up at the backs of his eyes and before he could talk himself out of it, he shifted on the bed and slammed his fist into the side of Sam’s head, closing his eyes as his brother fell unconscious out of his chair and onto the floor.   
  
Dean pulled back the covers, quietly disentangling himself from the IV tubing and the oxygen monitor, silencing the machines behind the bed with the push of a button. He scanned the room quickly and located his clothes and slipped out of the gown to pull the blood soaked, ripped jeans back onto his body. A quick check showed that his gun was missing but his army knife was still clipped to the front belt loop. He pulled on his t-shirt and flannel and then grabbed Dad’s leather jacket.   
  
“I’m so sorry, Sammy,” Dean whispered, pausing to adjust Sam’s sprawled out limbs so that at the very least he wouldn’t have cramping to accompany the headache he knew he would have upon waking. After a second more of hesitating, he decided against putting the hospital pillow under Sam’s head and instead reached down to pull Sam’s wallet from his pants pocket, liberating several twenties from the billfold pocket but leaving his credit cards in place – he wouldn’t be doing his brother any favors if the authorities believed that Dean was anything other than a murderer who had ungratefully attacked his lawyer, robbed him and then escaped, and he hoped Sam would understand.  
  
After scanning the walls and ceiling to be sure there were no cameras in the room, Dean flipped through the picture divider, looking at the smiling faces of three kids he would never know, a picture from Sammy’s wedding, and then a folded one of the two of them together. Dean’s heart clenched and he slipped the first two free, pocketing them before putting the wallet down on Sam’s chest. Dean leaned down to press a soft kiss to Sam’s forehead. “Bye, little brother…”  
  
Dean was doing this for him. Sam didn’t need this kind of trouble back in his life. The hunting, the sleepless nights, the traveling and endless bloodshed. Dean’s cheek was throbbing and the large sutured gash that traveled the length of his thigh up towards his stomach was aching as he threw his good leg over the windowsill. He smiled, knowing at least someone was on his side since he’d gotten a first floor room. The drop would still hurt like a bitch, but he would survive hopefully not in worse condition.   
  
Pulling out of the protective body roll, Dean pushed himself to his feet with a grunt and glanced back at the window he’d just exited. “For you, Sammy.” Dean whispered before disappearing into the night.


End file.
